Fictionista Workshop WitFit Writing Prompts
by BellsNWhistles4Edward
Summary: No editing allowed, get the juices going. WitFit will help you!
1. Chapter 1

Today was the Christmas party day at the tiny elementary school I worked in. Little fingers…creamy, white, pudgy and grabby! Oh my god, so grabby. Stickiness seems to multiply around children exponentially. Adding the cookies, carrot sticks, dip and tiny sandwiches crushed between chubby fists and you have yourself one very dirty and crumby teacher.

I wondered if Miss Swan would help me clean up later from all these finger foods? Imagining her sucking on each one of my fingers because I was a "dirty boy" and needed cleaning up…

Ahhh, Miss Swan, the best student teacher I ever had the joy of working with. Her skin was alabaster cream dotted with cafe au lait freckles intermittently sprinkled like nonpareils on the top of a white frosted cupcake. She was not only beautiful, but compassionate, generous and caring; all traits I was looking for when it came to a lifelong companion. The idea that she loved teaching small children as much as I did was the icing on the cake. I would have my cake and eat it too…

Secretly hoping to open a private school for children who had been devastated by childhood cancer, I was socking away money like it was going out of style. I had my trust fund, and Miss Swan, hopefully, once I worked up the urge to ask her out. She was classically beautiful, needing little, if any, makeup or jewelry to call attention to her assets, as it were. And my, my my, what assets they were. Full, rounded breasts that jutted out like the very best water balloons a boy could fill, they were just large enough for a handful.

When I looked at her body I could feel the hairs tingle on the back of my neck, a flush beginning at my groin and spreading like will o' the wisp fire, licking each hair follicle, each standing at attention hoping to be smoothed back down by her caress. My entire body itched for a resolution to the physical attraction.

"Mr. Masen, would you like the last sandwich?" Bella asked, raising her brow in inquiry.

I looked around frantically, not wanting to turn her away; loathe to ever say no to this beatific creature. My hands were adulterated with bits of crumbs from cookies, chocolaty smears from tiny fingers and leftover sticky from cleaning up the cups of spilled punch from the children in our classroom.

"I-uh, well…" I stammered, looking down at the mess I had made caring for the students.

"Oh…" sighed Bella, "Well, here, let me feed you, Mr. Masen."

She lifted the triangle of filled bread to my lips in supplication. I opened my lips to received the offering with gratitude, my eyes closing as the sugar of the jam and salt of the peanut butter mixed to create wonderful tastes on my tongue. Sweet and salt resided in Bella as well and I wanted to taste her sweet and salt.

"Mmmm, thank you Miss Swan. Finger foods have always been my favorite way to eat," I said, opening my eyes and staring at her and hoping she would catch the double entendre.

Bella's eyelids drooped with what I hoped was arousal. Her nipples hardened and became apparent under her shirt. I flicked my eyes quickly to make sure not to miss my reward. Bingo!

"Thank you for your help today," I commented.

"Oh you're welcome. I will be so sad to go back to school after the break. My time here is almost over," she finished, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Well, Miss Swan, I wanted to speak with you about that. Would you mind accompanying me to dinner this evening?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward**  
**Creative Original or Derivative Fiction**: Creative  
**Rating/Warning(s)**: (talk about a miscarriage-NOT graphic)  
**Notes**:  
**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**Idea Completion**: "I could hear the muffled sounds of…" What do you imagine first?

I could hear the muffled sounds of our children through the paper-thin walls of the camper. They were giggling in the tent outside and their laughter was so infectious.

"You know what I love the most about camping, hon?" I turned toward my husband of 22 years.

"What, hon?" he inquired smiling and chuckling.

"That we are finally in a place where we have raised our kids for the most part and they are becoming their own people and have friends of their own. We can really enjoy our time with them without needing to go through the rigmarole of diapers and discipline. I think they have done a good job picking their friends so far, don't you?"

Our children were 19, 17 and 14. We had three boys. Well, actually we did have one miscarriage when we first began trying to have children all those years ago. This August marked our 23rd wedding anniversary and 24th anniversary of Renesmee's death. We both made sure each year to visit her grave and many times the boys came with us. After her death Edward had given me three beautiful boys to find joy in and raise together. Not everything was a piece of cake, but we loved one another, he had never cheated on me and we were in a great place financially. We lived a picture perfect life.

Leaning in to kiss me he said, "Mmhmm, and I think they are really looking forward to what's in store for them tomorrow most especially, don't you?"

Basking in his attentions, I replied, "Oh certainly, what child wouldn't want to be at this music festival? I mean, I would have killed to get here when I was their age. I am so thankful you put in all those hours and sacrificed your time to work so hard so we can be able to do these things together."

He grinned and I saw the satisfaction in his gray-green eyes. "You are welcome, love. Now what do you say we thoroughly embarass them and go make out in front of them?"

I replied, "Why not? They do it to us all the time!"

Grinning, he opened the door to exact our revenge upon our poor, unsuspecting children.

"Gag me, Mom and Dad!"

"Get a room, would ya!?"

"Oh please...not now!"

It was our turn to have fun now...


	3. Chapter 3

It was so damn cold out today. All over the country there were winter weather advisories and wind chill factors of below zero. Thick blankets of snow encroached upon the asphalt ribbons that wound their way among the mountains. Even my Hummer was struggling to warm today. Usually cold weather was no problem for me but today I was dealing with tittie hard-ons (THO's) constantly. I swear my nipples could cut glass at this point.

I was on my way to ski at the Mountain. Mondays were the days I set aside to give lessons fulfilling my quota and get a free lift pass and so could enjoy being on the slopes on my own. I felt so free flying downhill. There was no greater feeling than catching air on my board up above the incline of snow and ice; the faster, the better.

The only downside was the drying effects of the wind. I had the worst chapped lips I had had since I dated Bree in college. Man, could she kiss both above the waist and below, if you know what I mean...*grin*

I had specs for my eyes, a hat for my head and a great jacket that wasn't too bulky, but did its job keeping the wind off my bod. Too bad my nips didn't notice...brrr. After I grabbed my gear from the trunk, I headed inside to get my assignment for the day.

Dammit, I knew she'd get me back for turning her down the other day, I thought to myself, bemoaning the fact that I ended up on the fuckin' bunny hill again for the third week in a row. Jess was just pissed that I opted out of her orgy at her chalet Wed night last week. There was no friggin' way I was gunna rope myself into four guys and three girls. The equation did not add up in my favor.

Oh well, que sera sera. "What will be will be."

Heading on up the mile long slope, I took a look around as I rode the lift. Amazing textures swept the landscape. It was always a dream of mine as a kid to be helicopter pilot. It would have been so cool to be able to zip and slide over the hills while appreciating the lay of the land. Instead, I opted into the game commissioner program instead. With a background in Criminal Justice and lots of time on the firing range my parents owned when I was growing up, it was a no-brainer.

Hopping off, I glided over to the designated area for lessons.

Only one person was standing there under my flag. She was short with long black hair and the bluest eyes I had ever seen. The vision she created was striking. She was all wrapped up in her snow outfit; black skins on her legs, a snug sweater on top and there was no hat for this girl. God, wasn't she cold- oh yeah, look at that, she had THO's too. She was definitely cold. Her lips were full, pouty and red. She looked away from me. Oh well, I figured we would observe the five minute wait time and then be on our way.

"'Sup?" I greeted my lone student.

"Hi, my name's Rosalie Hale. You can call me Rose," she said, fixing her blue jean-colored eyes on me. Man, it was difficult to look away!

"Emmett McCarty, pleased to meet you," I extended my gloved hand hand toward her in an effort to appear congenial when all I wanted to do was get this over with and get on with a few runs before it got any damn colder, if that were possible.

"So, I guess its a little cold out, huh?" I asked lamely.

"Only a little," she chuckled. Man, the way her nose scrunched when she laughed made me wanna look at her a little more.

Stare much, McCarty? God, gotta get this over with, she was messing with my man card big time.

"Ok well, since you're up here I assume you know enough to-"

"Look, Emmett, I already know how to 'board," she interrupted, and then continued as my curiosity piqued, "I really just wanted to see if you wanted to ride with me. I'm a photographer for Vail Magazine and I've been assigned to find ho-, I mean, archetypal boarders for an article in the upcoming issue. Would you be interested in spending a few hours letting me take pictures?"

I have to admit my eyebrows went with my curiosity, so I worked hard to cool it as she spoke. She wanted to take pictures of me as I did the one thing in this world I was passionate about? Hell ya, she could!

"Hell ya you can! That sounds like a great idea!" I strapped up my boots while I considered my luck, and oh, my company for the next few hours as well. Life could be worse, that was for sure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward**  
**Creative Original or Derivative Fiction**: creative  
**Rating/Warning(s)**: M (language)  
**Notes**: this sucked.  
**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization  
Word Challenge: electrocution

Sonofabitch. Someone (Rosalie, because I heard her cackle from literally a mile away) left the hair dryer on the bathroom floor again. I guess I won't be making that date with Jessica after all. Electrocution was one of the few ways to ensure our immobility. This was the way of things around here. Can I just say that the date never really ever had a chance?

A guy just tries to have a normal life once in a while. I didn't want to go out, I really didn't. This all stemmed from the thoughts my brothers and father had been having about me again lately. Things get repetitive when you are animated for one hundred years and counting. It had been about twenty years or so since I went out on a real date with a real girl (don't ask, don't tell), vampire or otherwise. So, I understand it was necessary to waylay their fears that I was still...erm...one of them.

I guess I really wish that they wouldn't try to interfere. The girls interfered the last three times. The first time, they tricked me into helping out the elderly lady across the street that was as deaf as a stone and she needed me to tune her radio to the nightly news program. Then I had to spend the next two hours filling her in on the stuff she missed while she talked to me through the program.

Then Rosalie took her turn tricking me into thinking she was hallucinating on LSD. She was flipping out and lolling on the floor while she took her clothes off. Emmett had gone with Jasper hunting. I mean, I couldn't just leave her like that.

The last time Alice got us all to change our hair into styles typical of the 80's decade. Who knew mine would never go back? Apparently the proteins in our hair bonded with AquaNet. It was a damn disaster. I mean, I realize Alice wanted me to stay put, but come on already!

Now, here I am, lying in a puddle of water with the hair dyer electrocuting me. I wonder what will happen next.


	5. Chapter 5

Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward

Creative Original or Derivative Fiction: Creative Original

Rating/Warning(s): M (language)

Notes: this was hard and I loved it! I'm not sure this was what was expected, but it is what I came up with and I really had fun getting this out. The Odd numbers are the man speaking and the evens are the woman. They are man and wife here.

Disclaimer: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization

Prompt: Video Challenge: Get a piece of paper and number from 1 to 10. Watch the following video: "Sorry I'm Late" from Tomas Mankovsky on Vimeo. Once the video is complete, write a drabble featuring a man and a woman using each word.

1. Say the words to me that I need and want to hear please. Tell me the exact thing that I have to hear from your lips to my ears.  
2. You're the one who always goes off and never says a word about it. I don't know why you can do these things and I cannot. When you decide that you're going to disappear for a few hours I am not allowed to say a word about it.  
3. Alone is where you're going to find yourself if you do not tell me where you were this evening.  
4. Once again, I will tell you that it's not a big deal!  
5. Again I get the runaround. You should have become a lawyer.  
6. I'm so sorry that I have disappointed you once again. Can this not be about my job for once? Can this not be about you attacking me for doing something that I wanted to do without you? We need time apart once in a great while. I'm….  
7. …Wondering why you will not give me a straight answer?  
8. Why don't you trust me?  
9. You're not allowed to be trusted. You're a beautiful, handsome, gorgeous man and if you left me I would be devastated!  
10. Late compliments will get you everywhere. Here, I went out to buy you these for our anniversary next week. (diamond studs) I did not want you to know. Are you happy now? Sorry I'm late.


	6. Chapter 6

**Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward**  
**Creative Original or Derivative Fiction**: derivative...?  
**Rating/Warning(s)**: M  
**Notes**: I know this topic has been explored ad nauseum, but I just wanted to.

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization  
**Prompt:** Musical Mastery  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Everyone knows that Edward can be a purist when it comes to having the best things and going the best places. He can be seen as a snob, a snoot, an elitist. There will always be things that Bella and he do not agree on. This was one more thing that Edward was unwilling to let go of. He was stalwart in his disdain for the techno pop style. There were many reasons, one of them being the sheer inanity that one experienced when trying to listen to the same note over and over again. He wasn't sure if they were trying to lull themselves into a stupor or if they really did enjoy the stuff. The incessant thump was like Chinese water torture, an event he had no desire to repeat. He was not sure why anyone would want to subject themselves to such torture and frankly, he quit trying to understand a long time ago.

The trouble with this was that Bella just loved this style of music. She enjoyed "zoning out" and turning her brain off for a while to get away from life and all its many, many thoughts. Edward could not understand this about the human mind. Did they not experience the same effect while asleep? What about daydreaming? He wished once again, with a feeling of bleakness that he would be able to zone out like Bella. There were times that she looked so peaceful during the regeneration process that he was a little angry at how blithely she dismissed the privilege.

He had talked to her numerous times about enjoying the life she had because it would not last and she would likely not remember much of it. Truly it was as if all of humanity was "seeing through a glass darkly."

He wondered again if this was his personal version of Hell, because if it was, he was most likely experiencing the duality of the situation in his burning thirst for Isabella's blood and her body at the same time. He was literally a candle burning at both ends. He was curious how long he could last in this state.

That was the question, wasn't it? How long he could outlast his thirst. He recalled the Biblical story of the Rich Man and Lazarus and how the rich man wanted but a drop of water to slake his thirst. A simple drop of Bella's blood was surely to be the impetus for disaster.

He had no clue how he stopped drinking when James had bit her. He figured that it was his love for her and his desire to not hurt her. But wasn't that just a ruse? Wouldn't someone as greedy and caring of himself as he was would want to make this beautiful, tasty treat last as long as he possibly could? There were numerous theories floating around amongst his family. Rosalie with her agreement on his selfishness. Jasper thought he knew the true reason as it involved Edward's feelings for Bella. Carlisle's pride in his son's self-control was really the icing on the cake for him though. He cringed each time Carlisle smiled beatifically at him, pride overcoming his cautious visage. Alice thought she knew as well, seeing into his "decided" future.

Edward wished he knew his own heart and mind as well as he knew how much he hated that music Bella was listening to.


	7. Chapter 7

**Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward**  
**Creative Original or Derivative Fiction**: derivative  
**Rating/Warning(s)**: M  
**Notes**:

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization

**Word Prompt**: Rapport

In order to create a beneficial rapport with one's teacher, it is essential to attend said teacher's class regularly. Why Isabella was having trouble with this was a complete mystery to Edward. He had the distinct privilege of being Isabella Swan's English 101 professor. She handed in each assignment on time (at the end of class) and was successful in her completion of each task dealt. She had the brains, not to mention the beauty, why could she not attend the class? The girl had been either late or absent from each class the entire semester. It wasn't as if she couldn't do the work. She was so pretty to look at, too. Catching his eye the very first day, with her shiny waist length hair he wondered if he shouldn't have passed this annoying class onto James after all saving himself a bit of physical torment. Now he could do no such thing. He was determined to get to the bottom of this most mysterious conundrum that was Isabella Swan.

Bella, on the other hand, couldn't do it. She could not make herself sit through a lecture with Professor Masen and learn anything. His voice lulled her...body...into a deep sense of dissatisfaction, to put it mildly. The man was a male siren of desire, the complete antithesis of what she expected from a teacher with a name like Edward A. Masen.

Sure she was going to be lulled to sleep, doomed to disdain her English major from the very start, imagine the surprise she received as he walked into the room the very first day of classes with his light eyes, amber-colored camel hair blazer, starched white shirt and red tie, wingtips and a wonderful curtain of silky brown hair, brushing his chin. Ahh yes, the chin with the perfect dotted cleft. It made her palms sweat from restraining the action of poking her finger nail, or rather, her tongue, because if she was honest with herself, she wanted to run her tongue all over, up, down and all around on Mr. Masen's chin, dipping the tip into the well of handsome that was that cleft. It was like two butt cheeks pushed together and mounted on the bottom of his face. Then there was the closely cropped facial hair signifying that he was a fully developed man, at the point in his life that one might consider the prime. The burn that non-beard would be able to create made her want to weep with anticipation. She made a decision that she would be in class tomorrow and completely ignore the beautiful distraction that was Professor Masen.

She wondered how old he was. Would he be single? These thoughts were not helping her situation. He did not have a ring on his finger signifying a significant relationship, but she could not imagine such a man as this being without some sort of distraction. Speaking of distraction, she really needed to get in there and hand this paper in so she could get credit and wondered how much longer he would lecture before calling it a day.

Bella did not want to admit this to her supposed peers, but she was actually five years older than all of them. While they were graduating from high school, she spent the last four of them working in a village in Haiti with orphaned children. It was difficult to admit her age but then again she hid it well by the clothes she wore and the way she held on to her youthful visage. So she didn't have to answer many questions. She wondered the differences in age between her and Edward. She also wondered if she would ever be able to sit in the same room with him and not have these unwelcome desires.

As she turned in her English homework, quickly trying to slip in amongst the rest of class and hoping to remain unseen, the hair on the back of her neck tingled and lifted. Shit, Mr. Masen was coming over toward her. Hoping he hadn't spied her yet, she flung the paper on the desk and turned to dart away.

"Ms. Swan, may I speak with you for a moment?" Edward called quickly, hoping she would hear over the din of exiting students because he wanted a good look at her today, dammit. She could at least make up for the crappy hand he'd been dealt that was this class.

Hesitating, she knew she had been caught.

Turning to look at her professor, she was once again struck with how perfectly and classically handsome he was. At least over six feet tall, he towered over her, making her feel dainty and secure in his presence. He loved looking down on her and watched with pleasure as her cocoa eyes widened as she watched him walk toward her. He wondered what it would feel like to make her sigh his name in ecstasy. Would she respond when her earlobe was tickled with the tip of his nose? He thought of running his hands down that curtain of dark hair, ending at the crack in her backside. He thought of tucking his middle finger into it, under her soft cotton panties. She was turned only halfway toward him now and he could see the lift in flesh and the curve as it met her thigh. So gracefully proportioned. He never thought of himself as an ass man, but this girl did something to him.

Chastising himself for thinking of a student in this way, he cleared his throat and called, "Ms. Swan, so glad you could join our class, even if it was only to turn in your assignment once again." And cue the blush on her alabaster skin; she was so perfect to him.

What should she say? That his beauty astonished and distracted her the point that she have to leave the building and take out stock in Great Pleasures because one sex toy was never enough to satisfy the longing he created? She tried to wipe the smirk off her face as he approached and stood far too close to her. He really should back away of he didn't want to be attacked in broad daylight. Being in Haiti had not helped matters much. She had been celibate for two years now, the last time she was intimate was with a friend in Haiti who left on short notice, taking her FWB with him.

Aside from looks, what was it about this man that made her want to jump his bones?


	8. Chapter 8

**Penname: BellsNWhistles/DDofEve/BellsNWhistles4Edward**  
**Creative Original or Derivative Fiction**: derivative  
**Rating/Warning(s)**: M  
**Notes**: This continues the 17th prompt of "rapport" story that was begun.

**Disclaimer**: All copyrighted, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization

Word Challenge: Use the following words: waterfall, droplets, piece, dedicate.

Watching the waterfall of hair bounce and sway on her back as she turned fully toward him, Edward struggled to keep his eyes on his student's face. It wasn't just her hair that bounced. Suppressing a groan, Edward addressed her directly.

"Now, Ms. Swan, would you care to join me in my office to discuss the problem we seem to be having?"

Bella could feel her anxiety causing a drop in both her stomach and visage. "Mr. Masen, I know I haven't been in class very much, but I hoped that when you saw the quality of my work and how far above the other students it was, we could come to some sort of agreement. I do apologize for not coming to you sooner."

Edward had wondered why she didn't opt for testing out of the class in the first place but was having difficulty concentrating on the explanation she was giving. He really just wanted to get her into his office so he could give her his undivided attention. He also felt several pairs of eyes on them. He wanted to look at her and memorize her features privately and that affected change in what he said next. He was going to have mercy on her but she was pushing him to discuss the problem here; he needed to get away from her in the middle of all these students.

"Ms. Swan, I asked if you would be agreeable to a meeting in my office and do not appreciate your sidestepping my request. Now, will you say yes or no to the meeting? Either way we will resolve this problem with your attendance and I expect a positive response on your part." He waited for her response, beginning to feel bad for needing to push her to this so forcefully.

Bella realized she had overstepped and they agreed on a time tomorrow afternoon.

Now Bella dithered over what she was going to do. Should she attend the meeting with the most perfectly formed man on the face of the earth? Or should she stay away from him and take the failing mark in the class? As she walked to her next class she wished she had a girlfriend to talk to about this problem.

All of her friends had finished college already and were ensconced back in Arizona in new careers and lives separate from her own. She was taking advantage of her father's benefits on the police force for this college experience in Seattle. She felt so alone right now.

Edward watched as the droplets of tears painted translucent lines down her pink cheeks. Now he just felt like an ass. He never meant to make her feel so badly. His mouth turned to a frown and his skin felt tight and itchy. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his shoes. Expelling a forceful breath he dedicated himself to making Isabella feel more at ease once they were in his office.

"My office, now, please," he commanded.

Isabella wiped the tears away with her fingertips. Her mouth had gone dry and she needed a drink badly. She wondered what had angered her professor so.


End file.
